


This was where I began

by serene_saber



Series: Zero [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Teikou Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 11:11:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6372448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serene_saber/pseuds/serene_saber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After so many uphill battles, both won and lost, it seems pretty much taken for a fact how strong-willed Kuroko Tetsuya is, how stubborn and determined, and how adamantly he fights for victory until the very end. Kuroko never gives up, that’s everyone’s belief, almost like a gospel truth.</p><p>Except that is not true at all. Tetsuya is not always strong-willed, and more than anyone, he knows intimately the wants to give in to impending defeats. Only Tetsuya’s basketball has ever truly witnessed his hopelessness and the many times he’d prepared to give it up.  But that’s not really what this story is about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This was where I began

The first time Tetsuya watched a basketball match on TV, he didn’t know what about it had captivated him so much, and so quickly. The way the ball flew from one hand to another, the way legs dashed through the court, agile and synchronized, the sound of dribbles, of shoes squeaking on the floor and balls jammed into the hoop, all of them filled him with a joy he couldn’t explain. Basketball was Tetsuya’s first love.

 

That love by itself might have been dead not long after it was born, however. Basketball was a team sport, and Tetsuya had no team. It was hard to join one when you were small, quiet, friendless and practically invisible. Tetsuya tried his best to learn by imitating others’ moves—he was not an easily discouraged child—but in the end there was only so much one can do with only a ball and a street court. He thought maybe he should just be content watching other people play after all.

 

And that was when Ogiwara stepped into Tetsuya’s life, befriending him one moment and becoming his teacher the next, rekindling Tetsuya’s love as easily as breathing. His first friend, his first teammate and opponent, and in a way, his first Light.

 

The last day Tetsuya saw Ogiwara before they started 7th grade was a normal autumn day. Ogiwara’s family was preparing to move away to a distant district, and they met to say goodbye. There was a bit of sadness and melancholy, naturally. The two of them had gotten close through basketball practice—they were best friends now. Tetsuya didn’t want Ogiwara to leave at all, having the urge to cling to his friend’s shirt and selfishly ask him to stay. Tetsuya dreaded going back to the long days he spent alone on the street court, kept dribbling the ball without anyone to pass to. He knew he would even miss the teasing he got from his friend about his shooting skill (or the lack thereof). 

 

But like the sun that rose and dispelled the dreary clouds, Ogiwara grinned and made him a promise. They would face each other again, on the court with their own teammates and playing the sport they all loved. Just like basketball allowed them to meet, so would it allow them to be united. No matter how far away they were from each other, or how long, basketball would connect them, and as long as they didn’t give up, as long as they gave it all their might, their connection would last. And that to Tetsuya, was more precious than any false promise to stay with each other forever.

 

\------------

 

Teikou’s basketball club was absolutely overwhelming. Three strings, over 100 members, and only the very best of the first string were allowed to be regular players on the court. A regular, that was Tetsuya’s goal. But first, he had to pass the preliminary test. He was, like everyone else, selected randomly for a team, and had to compete with another random team. That worried him deeply. He’d never really worked with a team before. And although he had watched a, probably, unhealthy amount of NBA matches, real experience in court was crucial, and was which Tetsuya severely lacked. He also didn’t quite figure out yet what his most suitable position should be. But that should be okay, he reassured himself. There got to be plenty of kids who didn’t know what they should be doing yet. Tetsuya should just focus on what he knew to do—dribbling, passing and shooting. He was aware that he was not good—lacking a lot in terms of foundation, but if he could prove somehow he had the potential, if he could show the teachers his willingness to try his best, letting them know that he was passionate than anyone else, surely, surely, he would have a chance. Most members had to at best climb up from second string anyway—that was what everyone was saying, no freshmen ever got into first string right away—so if Tetsuya could get into second string, then he could have more instruction and real experience, then he could get better. And then, then, maybe he could…

 

“Kuroko Tetsuya. That is all,” the teacher concluded the list of third string members.

 

Tetsuya was disheartened, but he steeled himself. It was still okay, he thought, it would just take some more time. He just needed to work even harder.

 

One month. Two. Another test passed by, and Tetsuya was still in the third string without any hope to move up. His dribbling was still mediocre, his stamina terrible, and his shooting rate still abysmal as ever. On top of that, his weak presence caused him a lot of difficulties when working with the team. His teammates just couldn’t remember him long enough to include him in their teamplay. They couldn’t notice his presence to pass him the ball, and when Tetsuya somehow managed to intercept the ball and keep it, drawing the players’ attention to him, he would be better off passing it to someone else, because his dribbling and shooting was not nearly good enough to score, or even hold onto the ball for long. As a basketball player, he was rather pathetic, really.

 

But he didn’t let himself give up. Ogiwara and their promise didn’t let him. He and Ogiwara still kept in touch by phone. And no matter how he was feeling down before each phone call, Ogiwara’s enthusiasm and unwavering belief in him never failed to pull Tetsuya back onto his feet. His loneliness and hopelessness once again was abated, and he came back to practice, heart lighter and with more resolved than ever before.

 

Ogiwara was so far away though, and there was still a limit to a person’s baseless hope, no matter how strong. Tetsuya might not have been able to hang on much any longer, might not have, period, if it hadn’t been for that fated meeting.

 

Aomine Daiki shone like a miniature sun. Tetsuya had heard of him before, of course. It was impossible to miss those fellow freshmen who were accepted into the first string since the very beginning, who always came up in every conversation between club members. Aomine with his speed and his ball-handling skills, his free flowing basketball style and his penchant for experimenting weirder and weirder ways to shoot. Tetsuya was kind of already in awe with him before they met, but it was after the meeting that he realized he was completely captured. Tetsuya loved basketball deeply, oh how he did, but with all of his limitations he could never find so much jubilation playing it as Aomine. Aomine’s enjoyment and exuberance was contagious. It glowed and was exulted through his every play and laugh so much it was difficult not to enjoy along with him.

 

But it was more than that. Aomine acknowledged him, not in words, and certainly not as an equal opponent, but as  _ someone _ , someone who was worthy enough to practice basketball together. For the first time after a very long time, Tetsuya felt like he could breathe properly again. It was so nice to have someone else beside himself and Ogiwara recognize his hard work and assure him it would amount to something. Tetsuya didn’t noticed until it was gone just how much loneliness had weighed on him, in all the hours and hours silently practicing by himself after class, feeling invisible and insignificant. It was the meeting with Ogiwara all over again, and Tetsuya felt so warm and light and happy he could burst into little soap bubbles anytime.

 

In his own way, Aomine was patient and unexpectedly kind, although he was clearly not a naturally patient person. Most of the time, he didn’t even care to hold back. He couldn’t help Tetsuya much with his technique, because although Aomine had played long and practiced hard, his basketball came from an unbelievable well of intuition and pure talent, and such Tetsuya couldn’t mimic. However, observing and going against  Aomine’s movements day after day gave Tetsuya a much better understanding of how fluidly the ball could move in the hand of an excellent player, and all the little taletelling details of ball handling and footwork, which he never paid close enough attention before. 

 

Before he knew it, Tetsuya had gotten better at analyzing and predicting players’ movements, no matter how fast they were, simply because Aomine was always faster. It didn’t help him much though. After all, it was pointless to predict players’ movements if he himself was incapable of dealing with it, and no matter how hard he mulled over his problems, Tetsuya couldn’t figure out how he could make that ability of use.

 

It took another two months and two more failed tests for the cloud of despair to overwhelm him once more. Even his teacher, who knew about his diligent after school practice advised him to quit the club. And Tetsuya couldn’t help but thinking he was right. He himself felt that there was little to no improvement from him during four months of intense practice. He couldn’t even make it to the second string, how on Earth could he get to first string, let alone be a regular to stand on the court facing Ogiwara? The Teikou regulars were strong, too strong in fact to need such a mediocre player like him. What did he have left to try anyway? He had done his best, practicing basketball and thinking about it every free minute he had. Any idea he came across, he tried to none available. He had nothing left to offer. He’d better give up, and try another club that was more suitable for him, like book clubs or something. He had to give up on his love for basketball after all, give up on the promise. He had to tell Ogiwara…

 

It was like fate itself was adamant on him not giving up on basketball. Akashi pressed into his life, and saw something in Tetsuya that made him declare Tetsuya’s potential when no one ever did. Tetsuya had never thought of using his lack of presence before, always considering it a disadvantage at best and a curse at worst. But Akashi, with his confident articulation and authoritative presence, deemed it an advantage and Tetsuya couldn’t help but believe him. Akashi didn’t quite open the way for him, no; what Akashi did was to tell him there was a way out, a way he had never tried before but would definitely lead to  _ something _ . Tetsuya was once more given hope, and this time it was somehow different. He didn’t really understand why, but he felt strangely empowered and focused. It was like he had been floating aimlessly at sea, half-drown and lost, and then was given the general direction and informed there was a current somewhere near him that could push him to land, if only he could find it, if only he tried. 

 

Tetsuya tried, and find it he did. After hours upon hours of researching, experimenting (there were a surging number of ghost rumors in his class now), he succeeded in forming a misdirection style. His teammates in third string got more and more bewildered with the increasing displacement of balls passing around the court, occasionally slamming it into the right hand to score instead of just hitting random people in the head. It wasn’t easy, trying to figure out how exactly to implement misdirection in team play, but Tetsuya had a clear idea of what he wanted to do now, and he was certain he could figure everything else in time. And he was right. He made it into first string, two months later. 

 

Of course from there, it only got harder. His stamina and general skills were still terrible, even worse now that it was put next to the prowess of the first string members. Their practice routine was in a totally different league, compared to third string, and no one was lenient with Tetsuya. He puked in every practice session—several times in particularly gruelling days, and soon he learned not to eat too much (not that he had eaten a lot before). He figured he could deal with the fatigue due to lack of nutrition, but puking caused an unsightly scene and disrupted practice, which was worse, in his opinion. Then there was the doubt and contempt on his teammates’ face, subtly, but still there, because he was clearly pathetic with all the basic techniques. Tetsuya never put too much mind on people’s opinions, but the truth remained that he had to prove himself worthy of his place in first string, or he’d soon be kicked out. He pushed himself to the limits during everyday drills, so much that he often collapsed before the practice matches, and didn’t get many chances to play with his teammates. That turned out to be a gross mistake, one that could have cost everything, because it meant the first time he played with the whole first year regulars was in an actual match, and he should have known it’d spell disaster.

 

His first debut was embarrassing, to say the least. Fell over on his face, almost broke his nose in the very first minute, and then when coming back, all he did was disrupt the play of his teammates. There was something really wrong with the way the ball flew, preventing it from smacking solidly into his teammates’ hand, but Tetsuya never had enough time or presence of the mind to figure it out. As it was, he was already out of breath just dodging out of his opponents’ line of sight. His misdirection, for some reason, didn’t seem to be working. Everything was falling apart like a disturbed house of cards, and he was powerless to stop it from collapsing. All the practice, and he couldn’t make things right when it counted most. He was frustrated with himself, and the more frustration he felt, the more his basketball suffered. When he was finally subbed out, he could only felt relief and resignation. He knew he blew his only chance to stay. His fight was over.

 

Aomine didn’t accept that quite as easily, however. Hearing his friend shamelessly and earnestly begged the coach just for him to have another chance made him feel ashamed of himself. Aomine believed in him, and so did Ogiwara. Could he be so readily let them down and betray their trust? Could he be so quick to give up? Pulling himself together, Tetsuya braved the court, resolve renewed. It would be okay even if he was kicked out of first string this time. He would try and try again, keeping at perfecting his basketball until he could finally prove himself worthy. Another chance would definitely come, and that time he would be well-prepared.

 

As it turned out, Aomine was not the only one that believed in Tetsuya. Akashi swept in and pointed out for him the right way again. Tetsuya hadn’t realized just how fatal it was to his misdirection if he lost composure and wore his heart on his sleeve. That was exactly the reason why his misdirection hadn’t worked as it should have. And most importantly of all, Tetsuya hadn’t thought of predicting his teammates’ movement and planning one step ahead until Akashi reminded him. Now that he didn’t have to hold onto the ball, his observation skills could be utilized to the fullest. It was nevertheless still mentally taxing to use misdirection along with maintaining total awareness of the court, and Tetsuya didn’t think he could make it without Akashi as their point guard. The other boy was incredible, knowing just how to direct everyone into the position optimum for Tetsuya to get the ball through. 

 

They won that day, and Tetsuya finally secured his seat on the regular bench, the so-called Teikou phantom sixth man.

 

The day when they finally fulfilled their promise seemed not so far away now.


End file.
